Roman Holiday

Epilogue: Country Roads, Take Me Home

Reyna took a sip of her Starbucks as she scanned the skyline of New Rome. Let's see what Frank left for me...

The south side of the Senate was missing, though she suspected it had become the smoldering pile of marble rubble at its foundation.

An organic greenhouse had lost all the glass from its frame, and the unpaid intern trying to sweep up the mess looked like they were going to snap at any moment. Terminus's instruction on proper sweeping techniques hastening the breakdown.

The roof of the newly christened tobacco-slash-vape shop was ablaze, but the customers and staff within did not care. The inhabitants' non-actions making the junior fire brigade scratch their heads in confusion as their chief rapidly thumbed through an ancient codex for some clue as how to handle the situation- hopefully she would find something before the fire spread to the fireworks factory next door.

The canopy of a great, golden oak tree was poking out of the roof of a bakery she and Jason used to frequent before the mess with Gaea. The owner-and-baker, a hearty and unflappable woman from Minnesota, had apparently taken the sudden intrusion of nature in stride by hanging a sign out front that read: KEEBLER SPECIAL! FREE FIREWOOD WITH PURCHASE!

There were about a half-dozen clouds of black and white smoke rising from various points deeper within the Roman refuge, and a small smile tugged at the primary praetor's lips.

Frank left me ten disasters. I expected at least twenty. She took another swig of her sugar-free, cream-free, black cold brew and her smile grew. We may make a praetor out of him yet.

"What do you mean tip?!" Piper (her Piper, not the one from another universe whose very existence was an existential nightmare to ponder) shouted as either she or Annabeth slammed the trunk (or boot as the daughter of Athena was now calling it) of their Uber shut. "My dad's people left a tip! A good one too! I made sure of it! And we bought you Starbucks too!"

"Yeah," their driver started with the confidence only found in Californian liberal arts majors, "but-"

"GO!!" The daughter of Aphrodite ordered, drawing upon her Charmspeak like never before. The force of her magical voice denting the driver's side door and sliding the hatchback across the pavement- only stopping when it hit the curb. Whether out of fear or magic she could not say, but the driver threw the vehicle into drive and peeled out New Rome's drop-off like a bat of Tartarus. "Can you believe that?" Piper asked, jerking her thumb toward the rapidly fleeing ride-share. "Hundred-dollar tip and twenty dollars of liquid diabetes, and they still want-"

"Your bags were still in the backseat..." Annabeth hissed with grimace.

Piper turned around and narrowed her eyes as she watched their driver disappear into Berkeley traffic. The Greek then took a long drink from her own liquid atom bomb of sugar and caffeine until the metal straw could no longer function. "Well, there's their tip..." Her lips twitched up into a wolfish smile. "My dirty underwear and-" the predatory grin was wiped away by her widening eyes "-MY SOUVENIRS! GODS DAMMIT! MY TARDIS!"

And that's my cue to intervene before she starts shouting at random cars with her Charmspeak...

In a move that she would have thought impossible a fortnight ago (unless it involved immediately slitting throats), Reyna walked up behind the two Greeks and wrapped her arms around their shoulders, pulling them into what some might call a "hug." Her old on Annabeth was significantly looser than her hold on Piper, as a way to allow the blonde to escape if needed. The daughter of Athena hadn't exactly taken their "breakup" well- even after she, Piper, Boudica, and a whole menagerie of United Kingdom characters explained to her that people say and do stupid things while drunk off their asses. Realistically it wasn't the breakup itself that hurt Annabeth, but her pride for allowing herself to believe they were a couple.